If The Baby Fits
by FlyYouFools
Summary: A one-shot Magic!Baby epilogue to If The Blazer Fits, featuring Swan-Mills family, fluff, feels and fu— oh, you'll find out. You don't have to read Blazer first to enjoy, although it may pack a little more punch if you do.


**A/N: I know, right? I didn't expect it, either. Many requested an epilogue to Blazer, and while I would never rule it out, I didn't plan to do it any time soon. However, I saw a new guest review of Blazer last week and, out of nowhere, the idea hit me. Yet another reason reviewing pays off. I hope you enjoy. I am a complete sucker for Magic!Baby fics. Thanks to Alaska829Snow for the beta.**

Emma Swan-Mills was pretty sure her fingers were broken. Or were about to be shortly, given the grip her wife currently had on her hand.

"Hhhhnnnnnnn!" Regina grunted, teeth set in an agonizing grimace, the frontal vein on her forehead bulging dangerously thanks to the exertion.

"Uh, should that be doing that?" Emma asked, pointing to the vein in question.

The nurse cocked her head, unconcerned; few things fazed a labor and delivery veteran. "She'll be fine. I'm going to get the doctor, let's see where your wife is at."

"I'm right here, _dying_," Regina spat. She turned to Emma. "Why are these people deferring to you? I'm right here."

"You're kinda scary right now," Emma giggled.

"Oh, yes, by all means, laugh. You put a _9-pound baby _in me and now you're chortling while I feel like I'm being torn in two. Enjoy."

Emma leaned over and wiped Regina's face with a cool washcloth, kissed her forehead and held her close, stroking her hair.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, baby, but technically, _we_ put a 9-pound child in you. And the kidlet's not 9 pounds. The tech guessed 8 pounds, 14 ounces."

"That's close enough!" Regina narrowed her eyes, a move that at any other time Emma would find concerning. However, now, with Regina in her 41st week of pregnancy, Emma knew she could outrun her wife. "And Emma Swan-Mills, you know how I—"

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm just trying to take your mind off things." That was not quite true, Emma also loved riling up the brunette by calling her 'baby' at inopportune times.

"Things like my vagina being widened to ridiculous...hnnnnnnnnnnuh."

"Incoming," Emma noted calmly, watching the spike in the fetal monitor. Regina gripped her hand again, once more squeezing to the point in which the blonde's fingers were turning purple.

"Gods, it hurts. Help. _It hurts_," she cried desperately, another wave of pain pulling her under. Emma's heart – and groin - clenched in empathy – she remembered the agony, as well as the indignity of being cuffed to a hospital bed while delivering a new life into the world. She hoped that her presence would lend an air of comfort and love Emma had certainly lacked.

"I know, sweetie. I know, hang on." Emma rubbed her wife's back in slow, firm circles. "Don't be mad at the baby, when I'm inside you, I don't want to leave, either."

"EMMA SWAN-MI—"

"How are we doing?" smiled Dr. Lisa Bonmere, striding into the room, a picture of composed confidence.

"We are not well," Regina noted archly through gritted teeth. "This baby won't come out."

"C'mon, Regina," the doctor smiled. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I lost it at around 5 centimeters."

Emma and Regina both truly liked their OB. She moved to Storybrooke the year prior, when the town began to enjoy its first population boom. Six months before that, a trip to the state house in Augusta – and a nifty dose of magic from Regina – literally put the town on the map. Emma pretended to be lost and dropped a stasis spell on the records room staff, which allowed Regina to go in and magically alter said records, maps and every legal document to reflect the existence of the Town of Storybrooke, incorporated in 1813. The move drew new residents and development to the state's best-kept secret, providing a much-needed influx of new people, ideas, money and normalcy.

Most of all, Regina was thrilled because new medical staff meant she got to employ the services of a new physician: "I am not letting Victor Whale anywhere near my vagina."

Emma watched the doctor position Regina's legs and lean in for a closer look. "How close?"

"Very. I'd say you'll be meeting your baby within the hour."

A rush of excitement filled Emma's chest, but Regina was not as pleased. "Another hour?" she rasped.

"Do you feel the need to push?"

"No." Disappointment was written all over Regina's despairing face. Bonmere moved to her patient's side and rested her hand on a sweaty, johnnie-clad shoulder for support.

"Then Baby Swan-Mills needs to scoot down a little farther until it's go-time. When you feel the need to push, hit the call button immediately or the Sheriff here will be playing catcher." Emma's eyes widened comically at the prospect, prompting Bonmere to chuckle. "You got it, Regina? Push feeling – call button. Do not push until I get here."

"Yes, doctorrrrrrr…" Another contraction wracked her petite frame. The pressure was unreal and nearly unbearable. Emma offered her beleaguered hand once more and rested her cheek against Regina's back for support.

The doctor watched, checking for any signs of major distress. "You're close, Mama, really close. Not much longer now. You can do it."

Regina nodded her head, panting in agreement as Bonmere left the room. Emma was about to try and distract her wife when her phone buzzed. Swiping the screen, she found a new text.

**How's it going?**

"Who's on the phone?"

"Text from my Mom." Snow and Charming were waiting at home, both had taken the day off. Henry was at school; he wanted to come join his mothers but was vetoed early on.

"_You don't want to see her like this, Hen. It's not pretty," Emma counseled._

"_Is she going to be OK?" All Henry knew of childbirth was what he saw on TV, it looked horrible. Even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he was frightened for her. What if something went wrong?_

_Emma flung an arm around his shoulder, which was now nearly the same height as hers, a fact that freaked her out on a daily basis. "She's going to be in a lot of pain, she doesn't want you to see her like that, and I agree. I'll be there. I promise I won't let anything happen to her. You know I won't."_

_The teen thought back to the day his mothers defeated Cora on Main Street. He vividly remembered staying at the miners' house until they got the all-clear, Leroy arriving to pick up him. Unthinking, the man vividly shared the details of how the boy's grandmother batted Emma around Main Street like a cat toying with a mouse, leaving her a heap of blood, burns and broken bones. When he was dropped off with Snow and Charming, Henry was an ashen, shaken mess. It took the couple two hours to convince the child his mother would live._

_He had to wait another day before visiting Emma in the hospital, and when he finally did, he discovered that his mothers had married each other the day before. He'd never forget standing in the doorway of the hospital room - Emma grinning like an idiot, Regina sporting a beatific smile - as they broke the news to him and his grandparents._

"_I asked Emma to marry me and she accepted," Regina informed Henry calmly, unsure of his reaction. The Charmings gaped trying to process her words, they had just visited a day earlier and had no idea. Emma looked on brightly, still enjoying the sweet embrace of morphine. "She wanted to get married last night, here. Nova married us." Regina tried to gauge the trio's reaction, unsure what to say next. She watched their son's expression change fluidly, slowly morphing from confusion into a pair of brown eyes wrinkling at the corners._

"_Henry?"_

_The boy walked slowly to Emma's bed. He gently wrapped one arm around Emma's torso, the other around a standing Regina and broke into sobs. "I thought I lost you both."_

Even though the hospital's policy was parents plus one guest for delivery, Regina requested only Emma accompany her in the delivery room. Snow understood and Charming was thankful.

_She's close. Doc thinks within the hour._

**We're here if you need anything, honey. Love you both.**

Emma sighed, a soft smile on her face. That never got old. Snow had a hard time in the early days of the couple's relationship – to put it mildly – but had truly come around, especially since Cora's death.

"Can I have some water?" Regina asked weakly.

"Nice try. Ice chips."

She poured some in her mouth and began crunching. "Why are you grinning?"

"Mom says she loves us both."

"She should love me more," Regina mumbled archly around a mouth full of ice. "Her giant grandchild is taking its sweet time navigating _my_ birth canal, not yours."

"That's just the Charming side of the baby, I'm sure." Emma grinned mischievously.

"Obviously—ooowwwwwww." Regina grimaced, her face contorted in a rictus of misery.

"Breathe, honey. Breathe through it." Emma cooled Regina's face once more and decided to take another tack. "Hey," she smiled. "Remember the last time we were in here?"

Despite the suffering, Regina tried her best to smile in response; it was nearly impossible. "I do."

"That's what you said then."

"Technically I said, 'I will,' " she corrected softly, her chest still laboring under heaving breaths. "I will never forget that."

Two years earlier, the couple was one floor down getting married by an absent-minded nun, the ceremony witnessed by a surly deputy. Regina Mills never expected to marry again, and if she had, she mused it certainly would not have been in Room 323 at Storybrooke Hospital. But she did, and it was - although unconventional - beautiful, Regina remembered. She left her mind drift back toward the day as the contractions eased.

She recalled the spark of dominance she felt as she relayed the news and watched Snow's open-mouth stare. She no longer bore hatred or ill will toward her - Gods, mother in law - but she couldn't resist the feeling of superiority as she pulled one over on the woman one last time.

When Henry withdrew from their group hug, Regina reached for a nearby tissue box and, ever the mother, began drying his tears. "I love Emma, honey, and I love you," she affirmed softly, stroking his hair. "I am so lucky to have you as my family."

Henry nodded with a sniff and sat at the edge of Emma's bed. She nudged him affectionately with her foot. As soon as their son was out of the way, Snow burst into tears and followed her grandson's lead, barreling into Regina's torso for a hug and gently one-arming Emma in.

_I married into an insanely emotional family._

"Mom, these are good tears, right?" Emma asked, muffled into the side of Snow's overcoat.

Snow wordlessly nodded her head as she sniffed and tried to bring her emotions under control. "I never expected this, but if our lives have taught me anything it's that sometimes the unexpected is the most amazing path." She pulled away from Regina and held her forearms. "I love you. I always have."

Surprisingly, that admission pushed Regina over the edge, tears welling up in big, brown eyes. The sheer emotion in the room forced her to drop her head to compose herself. "Thank you, truly."

Regina switched her gaze to the only other person in the room, who smirked at her with love and affection. The first person to accept their relationship, no questions asked.

"Come here," he ordered kindly. "I'm not going to cry." Regina did just that, holding him tightly and resting her head on her chest.

"You always were my favorite," Regina joked, prompting a sharp "Hey!" from her still-heavily-medicated new wife.

"Where's my hug, woman?" Emma sported a loopy grin and held her arms out as wide as her injuries, bandages and range of motion would allow.

"I need to speak to the nurse about your medication levels," Regina noted playfully. "You seem far too happy."

"I'm high on love."

Regina rolled her eyes, Henry barking out an instinctive, "Ewww." The brunette sat on the side of Emma's bed and leaned over, pecking her on the lips. It wasn't enough for Emma, who grabbed Regina's face and tried to lustily French her wife, much to Henry's disgust and Snow's protests: "Emma, stop!"

Unrepentant, Emma started giggling while Regina tried to get her breathing back under control.

"Now," Snow began, taking a seat. "With all that said, let's start planning a reception!"

XXXX

"They're getting closer," Emma noted, trying to be as encouraging as possible.

"I know that, _dear_." Regina's voice was exceedingly tight. "Very well."

"You seemed to check out on me for a bit, where were you?"

"Two floors below, the day we told your parents and Henry we got married."

Emma chuckled. "That was awesome. God, those drugs were great."

"Quite."

"But we continued to have a lot of fun after we got home, you know?"

Two weeks later, life had finally, blissfully and peacefully returned to what had become the new normal in Storybrooke, Maine.

Grateful for her work in defeating Cora, the townspeople voted a sentence of 5 years' banishment for Regina, then immediately declared "time served." The brunette couldn't decide who cried more at the news: Emma or Henry.

Their first real night at home, free of crises and turmoil, found Mrs. & Mrs. Swan-Mills in bed. Regina was trying to read a magazine while her wife did her best koala impression – arms wound around the brunette's neck, one leg draped over her lap.

"_C'mon, baby," she cooed. "Snuggle with me."_

_The brunette, who had been successfully ignoring her wife's pleas and advances for 20 minutes, just couldn't let that one go._

"_What did I say about infantilizing me?" she asked coolly, lowering the magazine to her lap._

"_Ah ha! I knew that would get you," Emma cheered, peppering her face with kisses._

"_You are like a child." The remark had a sharp edge but held an undercurrent of warmth. "Even as an infant, Henry was not this clingy."_

"_Remember, _you_ asked _me_ to marry you."_

"_I do." Regina pulled the woman in for a hug. "And I am glad I did."_

_Relishing the embrace, Emma reached an arm toward the nightstand and grabbed a pair of thin glasses and the magazine her affection had forced Regina to abandon._

"_Here, will you wear these please? I worry you'll hurt your eyes. Why don't you admit you're farsighted?" Emma carefully set the glasses behind her wife's ears and rested them on her nose. "You could torch me in the ass with a fireball at 100 yards, but you can't make out what it says on this…whoa, whoa, whoa. Why is there a circle around this white dress with 'Emma' written next to it?"_

_With Snow's encouragement - and light nagging - the women had agreed to hold a small wedding reception in the spring to celebrate the wedding and agreed on swearing a fealty oath in front of their guests._

"_I don't want to wear a dress."_

"_And what exactly were you planning on wearing?"_

_Emma shrugged her shoulders. "Hadn't thought that far yet. Maybe a pair of cool pants." _

"Cool pants?"_ Regina asked, horrified. "What on earth are those?"_

_Emma looked at her wife as if she were explaining the most basic arithmetic. "Pants that look cool?" Regina shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around a woman wearing pants at her own wedding. "Alright, we'll table that," Emma continued, reaching for the glasses and magazine and returning them to the bedside table. "C'mere," she husked. "Let's start making a baby."_

"_What?"_

_Regina initially chalked the baby talk up to Emma weaning off pain killers, but found the topic arose at least once a month. Every time Emma brought it up, Regina distracted her in the most amazing, physical ways, ones she knew would not produce said baby; that knowledge came thanks to an amazingly frank, embarrassing discussion with Nova._

_Emma was like a cat with a laser pointer anytime Regina dangled food or sex – the latter being infinitely more fun. She finally caught on to her wife's diversionary tactics months later, as Regina dropped to her knees and began unbuckling Emma's belt after the blonde broached the topic while folding laundry, of all things._

"_Wait. Wait, wait, wait." Emma narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You're trying to change the subject."_

_A button popped and the sound of a zipper lowering pierced the air. "I don't know what you're talking about," the brunette purred innocently, drawing her hand slowly up the inside of Emma's jean-clad thigh._

"_Yes, you do. Get up here." Emma pulled Regina up by the elbow. "I want to talk about this." The two sat on the edge of their bed, Emma taking her hand. "Talk to me."_

_Regina looked away for several seconds. When her eyes returned to Emma's, they were clouded with worry and hurt. "I'm concerned about my magic."_

"_What do you mean?" Emma was confused. On the rare occasions Regina used it – and only for good – they discovered it was now white, the exact color of Emma's._

"_I'm concerned that…if she has any of my genes, or my mother's, she could turn out like me…or Mother." Regina nearly shuddered at the thought._

"_Wait…'she'?"_

_Regina's lips parted but no sound came forth._

"_You've thought about this," Emma smiled. "You've thought about this, about having a baby with me. A _girl_ baby."_

_Regina smirked, caught. "I'll admit, I have on occasion. And whenever I've pictured a baby of ours it's always been a girl."_

"_If we had a daughter, she would be _amazing_." Emma immediately got lost in a dream about future Baby Swan-Mills. "Can you picture her? The daughter of a queen and a princess? The Savior and the most powerful magic practitioner on this planet?" Emma's eyes grew romantic. "She would look just like you. Your hair, your eyes…"_

"_No, I'd want her to look like you. Your hair, darling, it would be a sin if she didn't have your hair."_

"_How 'bout I buy her a tiny red leather jacket instead?"_

_Regina snorted sharply. _"Oh, I think not."

"_Tiny pencil skirts? Blazers?"_

"_Well, any child of ours would have to look as intelligent as she surely would be, so of course."_

"_OK, I give on the wardrobe, that's all you. However, if she turns out to be a tomboy, I am so going to rub it in your face."_

"_Oh, you _know_ I love that…" Regina sighed, winding her arm around Emma's neck._

_Arousal instantly sparked in Emma's groin. "No! No, I'm not falling for that again. Ha! Caught you." Emma tried her best to look superior, an attempt that Regina simply found cute. "You're worried our child would turn out evil."_

"_Yes." Regina's voice was very quiet, dread seeping throughout her chest at the mere_ possibility.

_Emma reached over and intertwined their fingers. "You, more than anyone, should know that evil is not born, it's made. You are my True Love and I'm yours. We're filled with white magic – _good_ magic. Do you honestly think a product of that could be born dark?"_

_She moved a hand to Regina's face, stroking her cheek. "Look at the amazing job you did with Henry. He's a great kid. And you did it all by yourself. If we were blessed with a child, he _– or she –"_ Emma winked, "would be just as smart and kind and loving as our son."_

_Regina shook her head in agreement, but still seemed burdened. "Honey, what?" Emma pleaded, squeezing her hand._

"_I have a confession to make…the sex we've been having won't make a baby."_

"_I figured, we hadn't talked about this yet or made a decision. Do you know how we could get pregnant, if we wanted to?"_

_Regina nodded._

"_Do we have to use some sort of magic dildo?"_

"Emma!"_ The blonde tittered, she knew her wife hated that word. "No, it would be just us. I spoke to Nova when you started broaching the subject. I can't even explain how mortifying that was, by the way. It's a long shot at best, but there is…" she hesitated, her cheeks getting hot at the mere thought of the particulars. "There is a specific…position and an enchantment. It may work, it may not."_

"_Who gets who pregnant?"_

"_That's actually quite beautiful. If it's successful, the enchantment chooses."_

"_So we could do it and either one of us could get pregnant? We wouldn't know until…"_

"_Honestly? 'Do it'?" Regina snickered. "How romantic. But, yes, we wouldn't know until after we _made love_ and one of us started exhibiting signs of pregnancy."_

"_And you don't want to explain how this magic happens?"_

_Regina stood and straddled Emma's lap. Fear gone, suddenly the prospect felt very real and very right. She licked a path up Emma's sternum and nipped at her collarbone, ending with her tongue enthusiastically exploring the blonde's mouth. "I'd rather show you," she husked._

_Emma grinned into the kiss and lay back on the bed, running her hands down Regina's sides and over her ass, grabbing handfuls. Fingers moved deftly to the hem of her skirt, rucking it up roughly. All this talk of baby-making had given both women a titillating head-start._

I'm letting her top_, Emma convinced herself, happily content with her wife taking the lead. Emma was usually the instigator in their bedroom, but tonight Regina was on fire. Her hands were making short work of Emma's button-up, which wasn't unbuttoning fast enough for Regina's liking. Frustrated, Regina grunted between sighs and moans, grabbed both sides of the shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying, all while never removing her tongue from her wife's mouth._

"_Mmmmm…shit!"_

"_Don't worry," Regina panted, "I'll fix it."_

"_No, Henry. When's he due back?"_

_Regina spied the alarm clock on the bedside table: 9 p.m. "Your parents said they'd have him home by 11."_

"_Well, alright then." A dirty smile crossed Emma's face as she propped herself up on her elbows, enjoying the view. "Take me, my Queen."_

_Emma used Regina's former title sparingly – and never in jest. It was a term of endearment, a statement of worship and devotion. Regina's eyes darkened lustily, it was like throwing a full gas can on a bonfire._

_The brunette unbuttoned her top in a slow, torturous path, Emma's eyes cemented to the firm, tan form sporting a lupine smile. Fingers crawled to the back of her skirt, zipper teeth slowly separating one by one in a languid peel. She shucked her shirt, skirt, and hose to the floor, leaving herself in only a lacy black bra. Rarely as graceful or patient as her wife, Emma frantically followed suit, much faster and far less elegant, stripping off her torn shirt, bra, underwear and pants, clothes flying off the bed in record time. Emma's face felt red hot and her chest was flushed, rippling with short, shallow pants._

"_Regina…" Emma warned, her voice dangerous, lower and more wanton than the brunette had ever heard. The woman sounded desperate, which only stoked Regina's desire higher._

"_Hmmm," she teased. "I don't think you're ready." Regina snaked her hands up to her chest and massaged her breasts, pinching and teasing her nipples through the thin fabric, moaning in satisfaction._

_Emma squirmed, slick and hard, rubbing her legs together for relief and finding none. All the blood had rushed to her groin, if she didn't get release soon, she was sure she'd pass out._

_Regina's right hand traveled slowly south, roaming over the taut planes of her abdomen, ghosting over a strip of neatly groomed curls, one finger dipping in between her folds and emerging slick and shiny, a sensual moan filling the air. Emma watched Regina aim the digit for her mouth when she snapped._

"_Stop," she growled, her voice as low as Regina ever heard it. "That's mine. Get on this bed and give it to me now."_

_Regina smiled slyly, turning her bare back and ass to her wife, only making matters worse for Emma._

"_Goddammit, woman…"_

_Emma watched long fingers snake around and unhook a bra, lace falling to the floor without a sound, not that the blonde could hear it over the thrum of blood in her ears. Regina turned again, now completely naked. She smiled lasciviously and placed one knee on the bed, crawling over Emma's body, every pore vibrating with need._

_Nearly blind with lust, Emma grabbed Regina's hips and pulled the woman onto her roughly, a hand on each ass cheek. She grabbed for Regina's hand and sucked the wet finger in her mouth stroking it with her tongue, moaning at the taste. Maneuvering the brunette's thigh between her legs, Emma began frantically bucking for release._

"_No! No, no, no! Wait," Regina cried, pulling back, her thigh soaked. "Do you want to…?" Regina the seductress had been replaced in an instant by Regina Swan-Mills, beloved wife._

_Emma grabbed her gaze. "Yes. Do you?"_

"_Yes," she breathed._

"_Are you _sure_?"_

"_I am, my love."_

"_OK, what do we do? And, a warning, I'm going to come in about 30 seconds."_

_One corner of Regina's mouth turned up in a smirk. _Gods, I love her so.

"_Don't…come," she paused, the slang feeling awkward in her mouth, "until I tell you to."_

"_You better work quick."_

_Regina moved the women onto their sides, limbs entwined. They stared at each other lovingly as Regina began to mutter an incantation over their bodies. Long fingers hovered over joined flesh as Regina drew her hands around their coiled forms. Emma could hear a faint hum in the air, the space around Regina's fingers appearing to sparkle faintly. She looked on in awe, her wife's gorgeous face flushed with arousal, speaking an unknown language through half-lidded eyes, their flesh touching forehead to toe._

_Regina finished and nodded with a smile, moving on top of Emma once again._

"_Stop," Emma requested softly. She reached up and cradled Regina's face with both hands, thumbs tracing exquisite cheekbones. "I love you. You are my everything." The brunette trembled, the emotion in the room as thick as the scent of sex and magic permeating the overly charged air. _

"_And I love you."_

_Regina spread Emma's legs wide, exposing alluring wetness that pulled her in like a magnet. Positioning herself on top, Regina spread her folds and nodded for Emma to do the same, after which the brunette began to undulate her hips, grinding their aching, wet sexes together._

"_Don't…don't move," Regina panted._

_It was an awkward, difficult attempt. Hands bumped and legs adjusted as the lovers tried to find the perfect position; copious amounts of sweat and arousal made the task even harder. Emma tried to stay still, it was easier for Regina to try to find the right angle if the blonde wasn't a moving target. It took every ounce of effort and went against every instinct for Emma to stay as still as possible and not come while she was turned on beyond all measure with her insanely gorgeous, naked wife, fucking her into unconsciousness._

_Emma unleashed a guttural roar, direct stimulation short-circuiting her brain, as Regina held her in place, their hard, engorged clits finally finding each other and rubbing together in a jerky staccato._

_Regina rolled her hips faster. "Right there!" Emma mewled. "Fuck! Right there! Christ, Regina!"_

_Regina looked down and found her wife's eyes completely lust-blown and dark as Emma grunted and moaned: "Fuck! I'm gonna…"_

_The brunette was right behind, every neuron seeming to fire at once as she closed her eyes and white spots popped behind her lids as she begged, "Come for me! Now! FUUUUUUUU…._

"CCCCCCKKKKK!" The contractions were coming nearly right on top of each other, the incredible pain constant. Emma knew her wife was at the end of her rope if she resorted to swearing, a practice she only employed in lustful bedroom encounters, and even then it was rare.

"Emma, _help_," Regina pleaded pitifully, her voice so childlike and raw it nearly broke the blonde's heart. Her wife was exhausted and worn out, limp as a wet rag, muscles and emotions spent. Emma new that look, that feeling: Regina was close to collapse. "Gods, I can't do this anymore." She began to cry, emotionally and physically exhausted.

"Do you feel like it's time to push?"

"Yes," she sobbed. "But I'm so tired."

"I know, sweetheart. Hang on just a little longer." Emma tried to think of something – anything - encouraging, as she reached for the call button tethered to the bed. "So, what do you think, boy or girl?"

"I don't care," Regina cried, defeated.

"Aww, c'mon, that's not true, I know it. Just think, in about, what, a half-hour, you won't be pregnant any more. No more swelling, exhaustion, million trips to the bathroom. Waddling—"

"I didn't waddle!"

"No, you're right, of course not." Emma smirked. Regina adorably waddled like a penguin as her belly grew and her hips expanded, her petite frame broadening thanks to the miracle of life. Emma would miss hoisting her out of easy chairs and soft couches, the town's most powerful woman unable to lift herself out of a seat, like a turtle on its back. But if refuting the blonde would keep her wife's mind off the blinding pain, Emma would deny the sky was blue.

"Alrighty, who's ready to have a baby?" Dr. Bonmere asked brightly through her mask. She walked in already gowned up, tucking disobedient brown curls under a surgical cap as she moved toward the end of the bed.

Regina was too tired to even answer. A nurse and Emma each hooked one of Regina's legs under the knee and held them out and back, lifting her gown over her stomach.

"I see a head," Bonmere noted merrily. She looked up at Regina. "Black hair."

"Dammit," the brunette grunted in reply.

"What, you two have a bet?"

"Long story," Emma added. She leaned over and kissed Regina's belly softly.

Bonmere looked over her shoulder at the nurse to her left. "Ready?" She nodded. "OK, Regina, next time you feel the urge to push, go for it. You're in the home stretch. Got it?"

She quickly bore down, teeth clenched, releasing a fierce, ear-splitting, desperate cry.

"Head's out," came the happy report. The nurse quickly shot in and suctioned out the child's airways.

"Breathe, Regina. You're doing great."

Regina bit down once more and unleashed another long, loud, scream.

"Neck's clear. Looking good. Let's get the shoulders out, next push is it, Regina. Your baby wants to meet you."

The brunette pushed one final time, shoulders quickly rotating out, the rest of the body following in a quick slide into the doctor's sure hands. Bonmere stood, hands full of slick baby, a wide grin detectible even under a surgical mask. She held the child up and out toward its mothers. "Meet your daughter."

Short, fierce cries filled the room as the child tested out her lungs, already unhappy with this cold, bright world. Regina crumbled, flooded with emotion and relief as she laid eyes on her very pissed-off daughter for the first time. "You did it," Emma shouted, tears flowing freely, now the third Swan-Mills woman weeping in the room. "You are amazing. I love you so much."

The delivery nurses quickly wiped off the baby and placed her on Regina's chest, covering the child with a small cotton blanket. "Hello, Evelyn," Regina choked out, gently stroking her back. The name sounded so real, so true, when spoken to her daughter in person. The baby calmed quickly, ready to melt back into her mother, content once again with the warmth of Regina's chest and the sound of her comforting, steady heartbeat.

"Emma, want to do the honors?" The doctor pointed to a clamped off section of umbilical cord and handed surgical scissors to the suddenly nervous blonde. "They won't feel anything," she assured with a whisper. Emma nodded and cut, the other nurse immediately taking the child to clean and weigh her. "Wanna come help?" she asked.

"Emma, go diaper your girl, then she's gotta eat," Bonmere advised. "Mom here has to deliver the placenta." Emma nodded dumbly and followed the nurses to what Emma had called "a fry lamp" when they took the maternity tour. Her daughter was placed under the lamp to keep her warm, a cotton cap placed on her head making her look like a pissed-off elf. She was cleaned up, weighed and measured.

"Nine pounds, two ounces, 22 inches long," the nurse announced.

"Emma, I am going to kill you," came an exhausted response from across the room.

"Way to go, stud," the doctor laughed. Emma answered with a wink; as far as Bonmere was concerned, their baby was a product of IVF.

One nurse wrapped a security device around the baby's upper arm to ensure she could not be taken off the floor without sounding an alarm. A plastic hospital bracelet, barely the diameter of a quarter, which matched Emma's and Regina's, was secured to a tiny wrist by the other. Emma stroked her daughter's arm. "Evie," she whispered in awe.

The nurse handed Emma the tiniest diaper she had ever seen. "Wanna try?"

"OK."

She kindly walked her through the process, Emma hesitantly lifting up the baby's tiny bum and sliding a diaper under. The nurse showed her how to fold it so it fell short of the umbilical stump, then fastened it on the sides.

"Babies are far more sturdy than you think," she assured. "You'll be a pro within a week."

As if on cue, the infant opened her tiny mouth and begin to wail.

"Good lungs," the nurse noted. "Well, Miss Evelyn has a dry diaper, which means she wants one thing." Lightning-fast, she swaddled the child tightly and brought her over to Regina, settling her on her chest.

"Feed her," Bonmere instructed. "It will help deliver the placenta." Emma watched as the nurse positioned the baby just so and helped guide her tiny mouth to latch perfectly onto an engorged breast, the infant automatically, instinctively, finding her way.

Oh, those breasts. Emma had watched with wonder, fascination and lust as Regina's chest expanded throughout her pregnancy. If she thought her wife's breasts were beautiful before it was nothing compared to the heart-warming sight of her child feeding.

"What does it feel like?"

"It's beautiful," she breathed, watching her daughter suckle. "It feels like a gentle tug, but it doesn't hurt."

"Can I call my Mom?"

"Of course, I bet they're dying." Regina chuckled, picturing the couple pacing their apartment nonstop. Emma turned to leave for the hallway when she felt Regina's hand on her shirt. "Wait…" She pulled Emma down into a kiss. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Emma leaned over and placed matching kisses on her girls' temples.

XXXX

Once Emma got a chance to hold her baby she didn't want to stop. She sat in the rocking chair as Regina slept, marveling how her entire life had changed in the past three hours. The person she had spent the past 41 weeks thinking, dreaming, wishing and worrying about was here, right in her arms, solid and real. The family had been moved to the post-partum wing where they'd spend the next two days before discharge. Regina, examined, cleaned up and fed, was dozing softly.

Emma rocked slowly, staring in wonder at her ridiculously perfect child, her impossibly tiny features. She never had the luxury of this time with Henry, never touching him once until he hugged her, a virtual stranger, in Archie's office a decade later. Although it was tempting when the doctor offered, she held fast and refused, knowing if she touched him even once she would never be able to let him go so he could enjoy the life he deserved.

"Evie," Emma cooed softly. "Hi, baby. Hi, my girl." The baby shifted with a grunt and slowly blinked her eyes open, blue, wide and wondrous. _She should recognize my voice, I spent enough time talking to Regina's belly._ It was a practice the brunette pretended to dislike, but secretly loved. Regina never suspected the numerous times Emma overheard her talking to her belly: events of the day, what they had done, what they were going to do next. It was like a lovable, real-life DVD commentary.

"Evelyn, is your mother keeping you awake?" The low, even, voice drifted over from the bed, Regina lying still, eyes closed.

"No," Emma smiled in a gentle, even, monotone, like she was trying to calm a wild animal. "Her mother is rocking her and telling her how much she loves her. And saying how perfect and amazing she is already at, what," Emma looked at the clock, "three hours old."

"Well, look at her mother."

Emma beamed. "Right."

"I meant _me_," Regina snickered.

The baby's eyes seemed to grow a bit wider at the sound of Regina's alto. "She knows your voice," Emma marveled. "Evie, do you hear mommy? Where is she?"

Regina looked on, heart clenching in joy: The love of her life completely head over heels for the newest love of her life. Emma was radiating peace and happiness, long, blonde locks cascading over her shoulders as she held their daughter, unable to look anywhere else.

Three quiet knocks on the door broke her daydreaming as Snow peeked her head through. "Anyone home?" Snow immediately felt her eyes well with tears as she saw her daughter cradling her new child across the room. She couldn't get to Emma's side fast enough.

"Hi," Emma sniffed, tearing up at the sight of her Mom struggling to keep her overwhelming emotions at bay. "This is Evelyn Elizabeth. I just met her, but I think she's pretty cool."

Three decades earlier, Snow held her daughter for a precious few minutes before she was ripped away. Even though the contact was brief, she could still feel Emma's firm weight in her arms, a precious newborn face nestled in a crocheted white blanket, burned into her memory for eternity.

"Oh, Emma," she sighed, trying to hug her daughter without crushing the infant. She took a step back and moved her hand to Emma's face, gently wiping tears out of green eyes with her thumb.

"Thanks. I need two hands for this one. I'm worried I'm going to drop her at any minute."

"You get very good, very quickly," David noted, crossing the room to hug Regina and kiss her on the cheek. "Nice job, Mom." Her heart warmed in response; he was truly the most darling man she had ever met. "How ya doin?"

"Better." Regina felt uncontrollable devotion at the sight of a love-struck Emma cradling their girl. "Much better now. Where's Henry?"

"Still at school," David answered. "We couldn't wait." Regina smiled, she knew who "we" was. "I'll go grab him at 2:30."

"I know you're dying," Emma chuckled as she transferred the infant to Snow's anxious arms. She gratefully accepted the bundle and pressed a kiss to a perfectly pink, soft forehead.

"She looks like you when you were born." Tears that threatened made their appearance, streaking down Snow's cheeks. "She is so beautiful."

Emma walked to Regina's bed and sat on the edge, rubbing her leg under the covers affectionately. "I had a mop of jet-black hair?"

"It was dark, but not this dark. And you barely had any compared to Evelyn." She smiled at Regina, "Oh, I love the name," instinctively knowing it originated with Regina. The former queen vetoed more than a dozen odd selections from Emma ("Really, Emma…Apple?), whose only real requirement was it be a name that could be shorted into a nickname. Regina wanted something classic and regal-sounding; Emma wanted a nickname; Evelyn was the perfect choice.

Snow gently touched the top of this child's head, feeling the downy-softy hair. "This is all Regina, I would think. The color, that is. The volume? That's you," she smiled at Emma, who smirked under her shock of blonde hair. "She's got Regina's nose, too. Your Dad's chin."

Snow walked over to Regina's bedside. "She's perfect. She will be an amazing child." She placed the baby in Charming's arms, then turned and hugged Regina, "How could she not with you as parents?" Snow's meaning was clear as she smiled at her daughter-in-law, a faint blush staining her cheeks at the sentiment.

It had been an incredibly long road to the peace in this room. It had spanned decades, kingdoms, identities and realities. There had been blood, pain and near-death for them all. But now, after all the lost and found, all their hopes and dreams for a normal life free of bloodlines, obligation and destiny were personified by a newborn baby.

Charming chuckled at Regina as he handed the baby back to her, he could tell by her eyes she was missing the feeling of the child in her arms. Snow watched Regina in wonder, she had never, ever seen her so peaceful. The wedding reception was true happiness and joy, but this? This was pure peace.

"Looking at her makes everything we went through make sense, doesn't it?" Snow mused.

Regina nodded as she kissed the baby's forehead, reveling in the sensation. Emma sat on the edge of the bed, at her side, putting a strong arm around her shoulders and nestling them both in close.

"So," Emma began brightly, "when are we having another one?"

**The End**

**Reviews sincerely appreciated.**


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